


We Come Running

by not_a_total_basket_case



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Apocalypse, But I feel like these are important tags, But not zombie, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, End of the World, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I hate tagging, It's probably not that graphic, Lexa Dies, Road Trips, also, asf, but there is violence, they all swear a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-01-30 15:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12656091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_a_total_basket_case/pseuds/not_a_total_basket_case
Summary: Clarke never anticipated the end of the world. No one did. Maybe if she had, things would have turned out differently.The words ‘zombie apocalypse’ are being thrown around, but no one wants to commit to that. Besides, there were no reports of cannibalism. Just violent deaths. And the Infected don’t come back. Once they’re gone, they’re gone.Bellarke deals with the end of the world.(Clarke doesn't actually meet Bellamy until the end of chapter 2, just be aware)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up, this starts with some Clexa, but Lexa doesn’t make it. If that’s not your thing, don’t read on! Clarke doesn’t even meet Bellamy until the end of chapter 2.
> 
> Also, just bear in mind that this is a lot darker than my other fics. Read the warnings. Major character death. Anxiety. Violence. Trying something new!

Clarke never anticipated the end of the world. No one did. Maybe if she had, things would have turned out differently.

It started with a few strange stories floating around the internet. People get sick and then they get violent. And then they die. She’s seen it. She saw it happen to her best friend. She saw it happen to her dad.

She’s lying in bed with Lexa when they hear the first stories. It’s being blamed on drugs. But no one has ever seen drugs do this.

“People are sick.” Lexa mutters, slamming the lid of Clarke’s laptop after they finish watching the third report of a teenager attacking her parents. “Why would you ruin your life with shit like that?”

“It’s horrible.” Clarke agrees, snuggling into Lexa and shaking her head. “But I think we’re far enough from the city that we don’t need to worry about it.”

“I hope so.” Lexa whispers, wrapping her arms around Clarke.

*

A few days after Clarke’s conversation with Lexa, the situation is spiralling out of control. No one knows what the Sickness is, but it’s become increasingly obvious drugs do not cause it and it’s highly contagious. And once you’ve got it, you’re dead after five days. People are claiming that once the Infected get violent, they become immune to pain. They attack their friends and families and the only way to stop them, is to kill them. Of course the Infected are peoples family members, their friends, so they’re being hidden and disguised to protect them. This doesn’t stop them though. It just means whole families are wiped out within hours of someone turning violent. It’s like living a nightmare.

Clarke was also wrong about them being safe in a tiny town. The Sickness sweeps across the country and no amount of preparation could have stopped it. Roads are closed and no one is allowed in or out, but people still get sick. Within a week of the initial reports, the Sickness reaches Polis, Clarke’s hometown.

It started with a boy Clarke’s age. His family assumed he had the flu, until he attacked them all that night. It spreads like wildfire and there is no cure.

She sees her best friend get sick. It starts with a cough, then a fever. Then he’s snapping at them for little things and aggressively taking the food and water they’re offering. She hasn’t seen it yet, but she knows what’s going to come. It’s theorised that they forget themselves. That they forget who they love and who cares for them. It’s going to happen to her best friend.

Twelve hours later she’s helping his father lock him in the basement, dodging flailing arms and legs, trying to block out his screams. They all but push him down the stairs and bolt the door behind them. There’s nothing they can do for him now and they know what’s going to happen next.

“I’m so sorry, Thelonius.” Clarke says, through her own tears as she makes coffee just for something to do with her hands. They can hear Wells bashing against the basement door and it’s breaking her heart. They can’t let him out though. He’ll kill them. She rubs at her arm, where a bruise is already forming. Wells is gone, Clarke reminds herself. It wasn’t him that left the bruise. It was whatever the Sickness did to him.

Clarke eventually convinces Thelonius to come home with her, so they don’t have to listen to Wells get more and more aggressive. Lexa is waiting for her and she falls into her arms, letting her rub soothing circles on her back, while her tears soak through her shirt. She’s known Wells forever. Doing that to him was the hardest thing she ever had to do.

She’s half asleep on Lexa’s shoulder when the sound of coughing startles her. Her blood runs cold as she meets her father’s eyes. He’s sick too. She can see it in his face.

She spends the night curled up beside him, despite her Lexa and her mother’s warnings. She can feel his fever getting steadily worse.

“If I’m going to get it, I’ve already got it.” She snaps. She needs these last hours with him. She needs to say goodbye.

By the time the sun is rising, he’s snapping at her. Telling her that he doesn’t need her help or sympathy. They both realise at the same time that it’s time to say goodbye. He’s able to lean over, hug her and say he loves her before he snaps again. Her tears fall harder and faster as he lets Thelonius and Abby lead him out of the house. She doesn’t want to know where they’re going. She just knows they’re taking her father away and they’re not coming back.

She allows Lexa to lead her to bed, where she collapses full of rage. It’s been ten days since the first attack was reported and now three quarters of her town is dead or dying. She cries until her anger dissolves to make room for sadness. She cries until she can’t breath. She cries until she falls asleep.

*

By the time it’s been two weeks, there are no new reported cases of the Sickness. The words ‘zombie apocalypse’ are being thrown around, but no one wants to commit to that. Besides, there were no reports of cannibalism. Just violent deaths. And the Infected don’t come back. Once they’re gone, they’re gone.

Clarke is angry at her mother. She’s a doctor. She should have been able to save her dad. But she didn’t try. She just let the Sickness take him. She let the Sickness take Wells.

So when Lexa suggests they go to the city to see what’s left, she jumps on the idea. The power has been in out in town for two weeks now. The phone lines have been down for a week. There is no way to communicate with anyone. Going to the city is a good idea. They might find help. They might find answers.

She tries telling her mother this, but is only met with another argument. She doesn’t want Clarke to risk leaving. They don’t know how badly the city was hit. They don’t know if the Sickness was different there. But Clarke has made up her mind. She’s going.

They pack clothes, food and their useless phones into the back of Lexa’s jeep and take off early on the fifteenth day. It’s a ten hour drive to the city on a good day. It will probably only take them eight. There’s just no traffic.

Calling Arkadia a city is kind of not fair to cities. It’s closer to a large town, but it has a small college campus and three shopping malls. People from the small towns will head there. They’ll find information.

They’re about three hours into the drive when Lexa starts coughing. She tries to hide it at first, playing it off as choking on her water bottle or hiding it with a laugh. But Clarke has seen this happen to her two favourite people. She knows the signs pretty well by now.

“Lex?” She asks, cautiously pulling over to look at her girlfriend. It’s a warm day, but it shouldn’t warrant the sweat on Lexa’s forehead. The fever has already started. She probably has ten hours before she starts getting aggressive.

“I’m sick, Clarke.” Lexa whispers.                                            

“No. Lexa no. No. No. No.” Clarke cries, leaning over to check for a fever. She’s hot. Definitely hotter than she should be. There’s no point denying it.

“You have to leave me.” Lexa tells her firmly. “You have to get out of Polis. You don’t need to be there. It’s not good for you.” She coughs again, the sound making Clarke wince.

“I’m not leaving you.” Clarke says through gritted teeth, climbing into the back of the jeep. She arranges their belongings to make a bed and convinces Lexa to lay down with her.

“I’m dying, Clarke.” Lexa says, as though it’s the simplest thing in the world. As though the words don’t tear Clarke’s heart out. As though Clarke doesn’t know they’re true.

It takes Lexa longer than it did Wells or her father to start getting aggressive. But she tells Clarke to shut up when she’s telling a story and Clarke knows she has to make a choice soon.

“Love is weakness, Clarke. You need to let me go. You need to survive.” Lexa says, when she realises what’s happening.

“I can’t leave you.” She says, tears springing to her eyes. “Not yet. Please Lex, not yet.” Clarke doesn’t know if she’s too sick to move or if she’s not ready to go yet, but Lexa settles back into her side. Clarke ignores the snapping as she tells Lexa stories about their life, about how much she means to her and about how sorry she is. She knows in theory that there is nothing she could have done, but there is a still a part of her that blames herself. Maybe if they hadn’t left, Lexa would be okay.

It’s when Lexa actively tries to hurt Clarke that they finally separate. Clarke pulls away from her and sits against the opposite wall of the jeep, tears streaming steadily down her face. They haven’t really stopped.

“I’m not leaving you.” Clarke repeats, before Lexa can say anything.

“Then I’m leaving you.” Lexa says. She kisses Clarke softly, before kicking the back door open and standing on the road. Clarke reaches for her, but Lexa shakes her head.

“I’m sorry.” Clarke whispers.

“Me too.” Lexa says, the ghost of a smile on her face before she’s disappearing into the trees. Clarke wants to call out to her, bring her back. But she knows that’s not what Lexa wants. She knows it’s not a safe option. So she starts Lexa’s car again and drives in the opposite direction of where she was heading. Five minutes later she’s pulling over again, letting the sobs tear through her body. Lexa is everything to her. What was she thinking? She shouldn’t have left her. She could have saved her.

She drives back to try and find her, but she’s gone. Lexa is gone and with her, Clarke’s drive to find answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really couldn’t decide if I was going to post this. I love Lexa but I wanted to make Clarke hard and against the world. She’s lost everyone she loves.  
> Also, just assume everyone who is canonically dead by the end of season 3, is dead here. I still haven’t come to terms with season 4, so they could still be alive. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Not gonna lie. Took some of my inspo from the walking dead.
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life. 
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr [Writing Is Ruining My Life](http://writing-is-ruining-my-life.tumblr.com/) or [ Not a Total Basket Case](https://not-a-total-basket-case.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke meets Raven and grows to trust and rely on her.

Losing her three favourite people in the space of three weeks really makes it hard for Clarke to want to continue. She wants to go to the city, but she also just wants to sit in Lexa’s jeep and cry. So she finds herself floating from town to town, stocking up on non perishables, water and clean clothes where she can.

She eventually gets to the city, but finds nothing. She’s not really surprised, it’s no more than she expected. She can see smoke coming from one of the buildings, but she’s not interested. So she keeps going.

She mostly avoids people, which gets easier as the months go by. She’s not sure if they’re dying or moving towards larger cities but she rarely sees anyone. When she does, they’re often not friendly. She’s not sure if they’re Infected or if they just want her stuff. She never sticks around long enough to find out. They never follow her.

Which is why she’s so surprised when she hears a voice behind her. She’s stocking up in a mostly looted department store that she was pretty sure was empty.

“Is that your jeep out the front?” Clarke turns to find a girl, probably her own age with the first smile Clarke has seen in months on her face. She’s wearing a red jacket and has her dark hair pulled into a ponytail. If it wasn’t the end of the world, Clarke would have liked her straight away.

“Yes.” Clarke says. It is the end of the world though and Clarke’s guard is up. It’s always up.

“Can I get a ride?” Clarke is about to say no, that she isn’t going anywhere and she doesn’t need company, but the girl keeps talking. “The guy I’ve been travelling with wanted me to have sex with him and when I said no, he kicked me out. I’d just take a car and go on my own, but honestly being alone kind of sucks.”

Clarke sighs. She doesn’t really want a travel companion, but she can’t leave someone who’s had to deal with that.

“I’m not good company.” She says. It’s not a no, it’s a warning and the girl in front of her can see that. But she smiles and offers her hand.

“I am. And I’m Raven.”

“Clarke.” They don’t talk much as they collect supplies. Raven finds things Clarke would have never even thought to look for. Tools, oil for the car, a radio. For a second Clarke lets herself think that having someone to travel with, wouldn’t be so bad. But then she reminds herself why she’s travelling alone.

“Jesus, how are you surviving?” Raven asks, when she climbs into the passenger side. All Clarke has in the back is clothes and food. And some soap. Again, it’s the end of the world, but she doesn’t need to feel disgusting.

“I’m getting by.” Clarke shrugs, pointedly looking ahead as she starts the car.

“Clarke, you need weapons. Things to trade.” Raven says, looking at Clarke with wide eyes.

“Weapons?” She asks, finally turning to look at Raven dubiously. She figured as long as she avoided the Infected, she’d be okay.

“The world has gone to shit, Clarke. People are forming groups, alliances. They’re not friendly. How have you gotten this far?”

“I avoid people.” Clarke mutters. She knows most of the people she’s seen aren’t friendly, but she’s never needed a weapon. She tells them to ‘fuck off’ and they fuck off.

“The guy I was travelling with before, we tried avoiding them too. But people are selfish. They want things and they’re not afraid to kill for it. You need to protect yourself.” Raven tells her.

“I can look after myself.” Clarke almost snaps. She’s not used to conversation and she’s all too aware of how prickly she’s being.

“I’m sure you can. But a little help never hurts.” Raven says, rolling her eyes. She doesn’t seem to have a problem with Clarke’s demeanour. She puts her feet on the dash and tells Clarke about the people she’s met, the ones who tried to kill her and the ones that are safe to go back to. She eventually convinces Clarke that it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to try and find some weapons. And they’re probably going to stick together for a while.

Raven also tells her about the Sickness. No one knows where it started or what caused it. As far as Raven knows, it spread for a month and then stopped. She hasn’t heard of anyone getting sick for three months. Raven seems content to talk and Clarke is happy to listen. She’s getting the answers she forgot she wanted.

They stop in the next town they pass just over a week later. Raven convinces her to park the car out of sight and see what they can find on foot.

“Cars draw attention. I still can’t believe you haven’t been robbed yet.” Raven mutters shaking her head slightly and leading the way down the street towards a camping store. Like everything, it’s been mostly looted but Raven manages to crack the safe and pulls out a small handgun. She cackles delightedly and hands it to Clarke.

“Why do I have to carry it?” Clarke groans, holding it awkwardly in her hands. She’s never even seen a gun before. Raven smirks at her and lifts her jacket, to reveal a gun already tucked into her jeans. It makes Clarke feel a little uneasy, knowing that Raven has been carrying a weapon the entire time. But Clarke has begrudgingly started to like her. Even trust her.

“I can’t even say I’m surprised.” Clarke mutters.

“I told you, I just want company. I don’t need protection.” Raven says, still smirking. “Do you know how to use it?”

Clarke shakes her head and Raven walks her through the basics, showing her the safety, the trigger and how to aim.

“We don’t have enough ammo to practice, but if someone gets close enough, I’m sure you can at least shoot someone other than yourself.” Raven says, as the wonder around the store collecting other things Raven thinks might be useful. Clarke tucks the gun into the waistband of her jeans.

“I’m pretty sure I knew how to aim away from myself before you showed me, thanks.” Clarke says, grabbing another sleeping bag from the shelf. They’re heading into the colder months. It’s probably already close to the end of September.

“I can’t assume everyone is as awesome as me.” Raven grins, picking up a pocket knife and examining it before putting it in her pocket. “Monty will love this.” Monty was a friend Raven had before the world ended, as far as she can gather the only one who is still alive. He’s got a permanent set up not far from where she picked Raven up, where he trades whatever he can get his hands on.

“I thought you said we couldn’t be generous.” Clarke mutters. “After I was generous enough to let you join me.”

“Travelling with you is a hardship, Clarke. You’re so grumpy that I can’t call anything you do generosity. And I’m not being generous. I’m going to trade it.” She waggles her eyebrows and adds, “For moonshine.”

Clarke glares at her, but feels her face unwilling soften. She’s already fond of Raven. Which she was trying not to be. She doesn’t want to like anyone because she’ll lose them. It’s inevitable.

“I would kill for a hot shower.” Clarke grumbles as they walk back to the car.

“We’re not sleeping in the car tonight, Cla – what’s your last name?” Raven asks, as they turn down the street. Clarke breathes a sigh of relief when she sees Lexa’s jeep, untouched and mostly hidden behind a tree.

“Griffin?” Clarke answers, “Why?”

“We’re not sleeping in the car tonight, Griffin.” Raven continues. “We’ll sleep in a bed and have a hot shower. I know a place.” Raven leads Clarke into a house that is arguably the most run down on the street.

“How do you always know a place?” Clarke almost smiles, as Raven opens the door, without trying to be quiet. “Wait! There might be someone in here.”

“As homely as ever.” Raven mutters, ignoring Clarke and kicking her shoes off at the door as though it’s something she’s done a thousand times. It takes Clarke a moment to realise she has. This is Raven’s home from before the Sickness. There is one photo on the wall and it’s clearly a younger Raven’s school photo.

“You lived here?” Clarke asks, unnecessarily as Raven drops her jacket on the back of a mismatched kitchen chair and opens the kitchen cupboard. It’s stocked with enough cans that Clarke assumes she’s been stocking up since the beginning. She selects two and then tosses one to Clarke. She groans in delight when she sees it’s a chocolate pudding.

“My mum did.” She shrugs. “I left the second I got into college. About seven years ago?”

“Where did you go?” Clarke finds herself asking, opening her can and starting on the pudding. It’s probably not even good, it comes from a can, but Clarke moans at the taste.

“MIT.” Raven says, “Lived in a tiny apartment with three others but it was more homely than here ever was.” She kicks at a chair and starts on her own can.

“I was in Boston too.” Clarke says, offering Raven her first bit of information on Clarke’s life. “But I was home for the summer, in Polis, when it started.”

“I have a friend who lived in Polis.” Raven says. Clarke doesn’t ask their name. Chances are they’re dead and Clarke doesn’t want to be the one to tell Raven that.

“I was here when it started. I got a call from mum saying she was sick. And she was never a good mum, but she was my mum. Y’know? So I came over here to help and maybe make some soup and buy some medicine. But when I got here she was already starting to get aggressive and I hadn’t heard anything about the Sickness yet. So when she was screaming and throwing things at me, I just thought she was on something again.”

“Oh god.” Clarke murmurs. She’s been with Raven for just over a week, neither of them have offered their stories before now. Clarke’s not sure she’s prepared for Raven’s.

“It got worse, so I ran. My neighbour, Finn, had been my best friend forever and we dated for a while. But we were young and he cheated on me and we decided we were better friends. Anyway, I went to his place and bashed on the door and when I opened the door, he was sick too. Not as bad, but in between telling me what was happening he was screaming at me.” Raven leans back against the counter, glaring at the ceiling. “He kicked me out not long after that because he knew what was going to happen. He’d already seen it.”

“I’m so sorry, Raven.” Clarke says, wanting to give Raven a hug but not being sure how to do it.

“It’s done.” Raven shrugs. “I tried to leave, to get back to Boston, but the roads were closed and the phone lines were down. So I hid until it died down and then I joined up with Cage. And then I found your grumpy arse.”

“Why did you tell me?” Clarke asks, before she can stop herself.

“Because, I like you, Clarke. You’re a good person,” Raven says. “Obviously you’ve got a story and you’ve obviously been hurt. So when you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen. I want to stay together and I know that scares you, but I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m not ready.” Clarke agrees. “But thank you for telling me. I want to stay together as well.” It’s hard to admit it, but it’s true. Clarke doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

*

It becomes easy, natural, to work and travel with Raven after that. They decide where they’re going next together, they make plans, share supplies and when Clarke talks about the future, she starts including Raven. Clarke finally starts doing more than just existing. She’s actually living again. She’s laughing and joking. She's enjoying herself.

It’s been another month when they end up in the small shop that looks deserted from the outside. Raven leads the way in, with an air of confidence that Clarke has never managed. The shelves are stripped bare and hanging off their hinges. There isn’t anything worth taking.

“What are we doing here?” Clarke asks for the fifteenth time, picking her way over a particularly dusty pile of debris.

“You’ll see.” Raven taunts, pushing open the basement door. Clarke groans inwardly. Basements were scary enough before the end of the world.

“Really?” She mutters, following Raven down the stairs. It’s surprisingly well lit and even more surprisingly full of people. Clarke tenses for a moment, they haven’t run into anyone that they haven’t been able to push away without the threat of guns, but they are outnumbered this time.

“Hey guys.” Raven calls, friendly enough. Clarke relaxes slightly. “This is Clarke. She’s really bossy and kind of prickly. Clarke, this is everyone.” She relaxes further when they’re greeted warmly. Clarke is introduced to Monty, Harper, Jasper, Miller and Jackson.

“Where’s everyone else?” Raven asks, after hugging each of her friends.

“We lost Monroe and Sterling last week. The others are scavenging.” Clarke thinks its Miller who speaks. He looks sad. “It’s getting worse out there. The world is falling apart.”

Clarke settles in and listens as Miller, Raven and Harper discuss the people and alliances they’re aware of. She learns they have a treaty with someone called Echo and someone called Pike just wants them dead. She learns little things about each member of the group as well. Jasper and Monty were friends before the world ended but no one else knew each other. Jackson was a doctor, who probably knew her mother. Harper had been studying psychology but turned out to be the best shot, aside from Miller, who’s looking for his dad, convinced he’s still alive.

She and Raven only stay with the group a few days. Raven makes her trades with Monty, smirking as she shows Clarke a large bottle of moonshine. She promises them to be back sooner than the last time and then she and Clarke are on the road again.

“We’re camping here.” Raven declares, signalling for Clarke to pull into the campsite. It’s abandoned, but there is a lake there and maybe they can try fishing?

It’s cold outside, too cold to sleep in the car, so they set up Raven’s tent and bring their sleeping bags and clothes inside. Raven pulls the bottle of moonshine out of her bag when they’re both fed and warm.

“Let’s play truth. If you don’t want to answer, you have to chug.” Raven says, opening the bottle and taking a sip before passing it to Clarke. She tries not to wince as the alcohol hits her tongue. It tastes like gasoline.

“What were you studying before?” Raven asks.

“Art. I dropped out of medicine and hadn’t told my mum yet.” Clarke says, the decision would have probably ruined the relationship she had rebuilt with her mother. She takes another sip and asks. “What about you?”

“I was almost a literal rocket scientist.” Raven grins, as she takes the bottle back from Clarke and takes a sip. She thinks for a moment and then asks, “Weirdest place you’ve had sex?”

“I did it in the back of that jeep.” Clarke giggles, taking the bottle back. “I’m going to ask you the same thing.”

“You’re going to have to come up with something original soon, Griffin.” Raven says, reaching for the bottle. “And in my lab, middle of the day.”

They pass the bottle back and forth, getting steadily drunker and moving from asking questions to having a conversation. She learns a lot about Raven’s life. Her hopes, her dreams, from before. She learns about her childhood, how she never had enough food, but the boy next door fed her. Clarke tells her about the dysfunctional relationships she had with her mother, about her dad, about Wells and about Lexa. From before. She tells Raven how glad she is they found each other.

“I’m going to tell you my story.” She finally says, when she’s drunk enough that she doesn’t think she will cry.

“If you’re ready.” Raven nods, handing the bottle back to Clarke.

“We never thought the Sickness would get to us, we lived in such a tiny town.” Clarke begins, her voice steady. She takes another mouthful of the mostly empty bottle. She tells Raven about Wells and how she helped lock him up, about her dad and how she at least got to say goodbye. And then she speaks about Lexa. How they were going to run away to find answers. That Lexa got sick. That she left her. “And I went back to find her but she was gone.” Clarke mutters, ending her story, tears sliding down her face, despite what she said about not crying.

“Your story fucking sucks.” Raven says, scooting around the tent to hug Clarke. “I’m sorry.” Clarke gives a watery laugh.

“Thanks for listening.” Clarke says because she finds she’s glad that someone knows about Lexa. She’s not a secret anymore.

They fall asleep not long after that; they’re both drunk and wistful and conversation had died out.

She’s woken just before sunrise by the sound of someone unzipping the tent.

“What the fuck are you doing up, Raven?” Clarke grumbles, rolling over to look at the door. She scrambles backwards when she sees the intruder is not Raven. She leans over and shakes her friend awake, reaching around her for the gun she normally keeps beside her pillow. _Why had they drunk so much?_ Her fingers close around the cool metal and she’s able to tuck it into her waistband unnoticed.

“On your feet. Out of the tent.” The man says, brandishing his gun at them. Clarke’s grateful she didn’t change out of her jeans as she stumbles out of the tent. Her head is killing her and she can’t think straight. If they get out of this, she’s _never_ touching moonshine again. Raven follows her out of the tent, hands on her head.

“We want the keys.” A second man says, waving his hand at Lexa’s jeep. Clarke scowls. It’s got all their equipment, food and most of their clothes in it. And the rest of their ammo. They can’t give it up. She glances at Raven, who shakes her head slightly. At least their on the same page.

“Not going to happen.” Clarke says coolly, managing to sound less scared than she feels.

“I will shoot you both.” The first man says, flaunting his gun at them.

“If they’re not going to cooperate, Quint, just kill them on the spot.” A third man drawls, stepping out from behind the tent, followed by a fourth, fifth and sixth person. Clarke pales. They’re dangerously outnumbered. Clarke has six bullets in her gun and the chances of her being able to hit each of them before they start shooting back are next to zero.

“Give us the keys.” The first man says again. Stepping towards Clarke. She wants to reach behind her, but he’ll shoot her before she even gets her gun out.

“Not a chance.” Raven says. One of the men steps forward and smacks Raven’s jaw. She staggers backwards, blood in her mouth, but still managing a death glare. Clarke accepts they’re not getting out of this with the car. Which right now is okay, as long they as they get out. They’ll deal with the rest later.

“Run.” Raven mouths at her, when she makes eye contact again. It’s really their only option. To the left of them, maybe 200 feet away, is a lot of tree cover. If they can make it into the trees, they can get away. Clarke nods and takes off towards the trees, zigzagging and keeping as close to Raven as she can. The shots fire behind them, but miraculously, neither of them are hit. They are least have the element of surprise, it takes the men a moment to come after them.

“You okay?” Raven calls, when they’re hidden in the trees.

“Fine. We need to move.” Clarke mutters, she can hear the men chasing them. They stumble through the trees in the dark, tripping over roots and branches and making way too much noise. A bullet whizzes past Clarke’s ear, too close for comfort. She stumbles slightly and someone grabs the back of her shirt.

“Go, Raven!” Clarke screams, she doesn’t see where Raven is, just hopes she’s free. She turns to face her attacker. Both of his arms are restraining her, so at least he’s unarmed. She struggles to get her arms free, reaching behind her for her gun. She clicks off the safety, like Raven taught her and points it at the man in front of her. His eyes widen at the sight of the gun but he doesn’t stop fighting her. She doesn’t have a choice. It’s him or her. She has to find Raven. She takes a breath and pulls the trigger once, then twice.

He falls on top of her, his blood soaking through her clothes before they even hit the ground. She struggles for a moment, trying to roll out from under the dead weight. When she finally rolls him off her, she looks into his eyes. They’re staring blankly ahead and Clarke feels bile rise in her throat. She killed him. She took his life and he was probably just trying to survive, the same as she was. How is she going to come back from that?

She’s distantly aware of shots firings somewhere to her right, but her own ears are ringing too hard for her to concentrate on that. She throws up, emptying her stomach of guilt and moonshine before standing up. She has to find Raven.

It’s probably been only a minute since they separated, but she can’t hear anything around her. No twigs snapping, no leaves crunching, no heavy footfalls. She can’t hear guns or shouts anymore. It’s eerily quiet.

“Raven?” She hisses. She doesn’t really want to be calling into the darkness, but she has to find her. She can’t be alone, not now. She hears a branch snap behind her and she whirls around. “Raven?”

It’s not though. It’s another of the men and he’s aiming a gun at her. She doesn’t even think this time before she pulls the trigger. The first shot misses him and so does the second. He smirks as he fires his own gun, the bullet grazing her arm. She cries out in pain, staggering backwards and shooting at him again. She knows he hits him this time, she doesn’t even need to look back. She sprints in the other direction, one hand pressed into the wound on her shoulder, the other gripping her gun like a lifeline.

Clarke eventually finds her way back to the edge of the trees. She can see where she and Raven were camped, but the car is gone and Raven is nowhere in sight. She stumbles towards their camp, blood pulsing between her fingers. She needs to bandage her wound before she can keep looking for Raven. Passing out from blood loss won’t help her. She assumes the group have left. They got the car and they lost two of their men, there is not reason to hang around.

She’s wrong of course. There’s another man leaning down, as though deciding if to enter her tent.

“Don’t move.” She says, pressing the gun into the back of his head. She’s got one bullet left. The spares were in the car. He doesn’t need to know that. A gun to the back of his head will hopefully be enough for him to drop his weapon. He puts his hands on his head and she lets him turn around. It’s easier to deliver threats face to face. She stops short when she recognises him though. Face splattered with freckles. Warm brown eyes that she’s seen laugh and cry. Messy, black curls that has grown into his eyes since she last saw him. A face that she hasn’t seen since she last screamed at it, all those years ago. “Of all the people to run into at the end of the world, it has to be Bellamy Blake?”

“Could say the same about you, _princess._ ” He spits the once affectionate nickname at her, but she doesn’t recoil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is chocolate pudding in a can even a thing?


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke have to travel together.

“Where’s Raven?” Clarke asks, shoving her gun into Bellamy’s chest. They might have been close when they were in high school, but she couldn’t care less about that now. She needs to find Raven. That’s all that matters. That’s all she cares about.

“Who?” Bellamy asks, not showing any concern about the gun pointed at his heart. He'd always had a cocky bravado, but she sees through it now. 

“The girl I was with.” Clarke snarls, “Where is she?”

“Hate to break it to you, princess,” Bellamy says casually, “but all I’ve found is an empty tent.”

“Bullshit.” Clarke growls. “Your friends attacked us. Where is she?”

“My friends? I’ve been alone for months.” Clarke knows when he’s lying. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he has a terrible poker face. She feels a moment of relief when she realises he wasn’t part of the group that attacked her. But then she realises she’s back to square one and Raven is probably gone.

“Did you see where the jeep went?” She asks, desperately.

“It took off a couple of minutes ago.” Bellamy shrugs. “Four, maybe five people? I figured they left the tent and I could use a new one.”

“Oh god.” Clarke mutters, dropping her gun and putting her clean hand on her face. They almost definitely have Raven. She sees Bellamy glance at the gun, like he’s deciding whether to pick it up and shoot her. Instead he takes her wrist and pulls it away from her wounded shoulder.

“Jesus, what the fuck happened?” He asks. He’s always cared too much. Even when he doesn’t want to. Especially when it had been her. He shouldn’t anymore though. Not after the way they left things.

“Shot.” She mutters, trying to keep the tears off her face. Raven’s gone. She has no idea how to find her. Bellamy reaches into a bag she hadn’t even noticed and pulls out a first aid kit.

“Take your jacket off.” He says, pulling out antiseptic wipes. She looks at him with raised eyebrows and he sighs. “Just do it, Clarke. I’m not going to let you bleed to death.”

“Fine.” She says, because she has to have the last word. She’s going to argue with him, but he’ll probably be able to do a better job with two arms than she will with one. And as soon as she’s bandaged, she’s going after Raven. And Bellamy can probably help her.

“What did you see? Before I found you?” Clarke asks. He might know about their weapons, what they took. He might be able to tell her if Raven is alive.

“Just four or five guys getting into the jeep.” Bellamy shrugs, gently wiping her wound. She doesn’t flinch away. It stings, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Definitely men? No women?” She asks, hope blooming in her chest. Maybe Raven is still hiding in the trees.

“All men. They ran when they heard shots.” He tells her.

“Did you see another girl?” Clarke asks, holding her breath.

“Only you.”

“Fuck.” She mumbles. She knows she heard shots that weren’t just her own. She just hopes Raven was doing the shooting. Not the one getting shot.

“Hold still.” Bellamy tells her, producing a bandage and gently wrapping it around her arm.

“I have to find her.” Clarke whispers, letting the tears fall this time. She doesn’t really want Bellamy Blake to see her crying, but she can’t help it. She’s spent so long trying to be strong independent and now she’s lost Raven, the only person left in the world that she cares about.

“I can help.” Bellamy says eventually. “Just for the night.”

“Thank you.” She says, because it’s more than she expected from him.

“Where’s you bff?” He asks after a moment, carefully finalising the wrappings on her shoulder. This was more like she was expecting.

“Dead.” She says. It doesn’t matter who he’s talking about, they’re all dead. She sees Bellamy’s face soften for a second, until she asks, “Yours?”

“Gone.” It’s a weird way to word it and Clarke is pretty sure there is a story behind it. One she isn’t going to ask about. He finishes the bandage and takes a flashlight from his bag. “Let’s go find your friend.”

They walk in silence through the trees. Clarke knows where she last saw Raven, because there are two bodies. Clarke feels sick looking at them again and is for a moment, terrified of what Bellamy will think of her. But he just asks her which way they need to go next. She didn’t see where Raven went after Clarke was grabbed the first time. But she leads Bellamy forward anyway, because they were running in this direction. It’s the only plan she has.

They wander for another hour, until the sun has risen high enough in the sky that they don’t need the flashlight anymore. Clarke’s legs are starting to ache and her head is still pounding, but she can’t stop. She can’t be alone again. She _has_ to find Raven.

“Clarke.” Bellamy calls from a few paces behind her.

“What?” She snaps, pushing a branch away so she can get passed.

“Come here.” Clarke sighs but turns around. Bellamy is staring at the ground with a look she can’t place on his face. She follows his gaze and it takes her a moment to see what he’s seeing. There’s a darker patch on the ground. It’s stained the leaves around it red. _Blood._

“Oh god.” Clarke groans, sinking to her knees. There’s no body, but whoever the blood belongs to has lost too much of it. They’re not going to be doing so good now, if they're even alive. Bellamy saw the other men in the group get into the car, apparently unscathed. This has to be Raven.

“Clarke. I –” Bellamy begins, shaking his head. She can’t hide the small sob that escapes her lips. “It goes this way. We can follow it.”

Clarke doesn’t answer him, just follows his gaze to more blood, heading in the opposite direction Clarke and Raven were running. Not knowing what else to do, she steps away and follows the path of blood, broken sticks and boot prints.

“She’s not alone.” Bellamy says eventually, when they’ve been trying to follow the trail for nearly another hour. Neither of them are trackers, so they’re mostly just searching blindly for more signs of blood or footprints. Bellamy is pointing at a footprint that is obviously too big to be Raven’s, next to a smaller one that matches Clarke’s boots. Clarke feels sick again. The group that attacked them might not have Raven now, but someone definitely does and she wouldn’t leave Clarke alone voluntarily.

They follow the trail as best they can for another half hour or so, but then they get to the road and there are fresh tyre tracks in the dust and neither of them have a vehicle anymore. Clarke has to accept it. She’s lost Raven.

She drops to her knees again, face in her hands, shoulders shuddering as she tries to breathe. She feels more than sees Bellamy drop to his knees behind her. He puts a hand on her shoulder and she tries to focus on that, rather than the panic she can feel rising in her chest. Her breathing rapidly becomes uneven, as she chokes on sobs. _What is she going to do without Raven? How is anything going to be okay now? She lost the only person left on the planet that she cares about._

“Hey Clarke, breathe. Deeps breaths.” Bellamy says, reminding Clarke that he’s there. He pulls her against his chest and rocks them slightly. “Just breathe. I’m here. Just breathe.” It’s the familiarity of it that really calms Clarke. When they were friends, he had done this on more than one occasion. His soothing words and the gentle rocking eventually even out her breathing but does nothing for the tears streaming from her eyes and the sobs tearing through her body. She’s lost the last person in the world that she cares about.

“Come on, Clarke.” Bellamy says, dragging her to her feet. “We can’t sit in the open here.”

“Just go, Bellamy.” She snaps, pulling her wrist out of his grip. She doesn’t need his pity. She’ll find a car, she’ll keep doing what she and Raven were doing.

“I’m not leaving you like this.” He snaps back. “We can travel together for a while.”

Clarke is going to fight him on it, she really is. But she doesn’t have the energy. She only agrees because right now making a choice about what to do next on her own is too painful. She’ll stick with Bellamy until she makes another choice. It’ll be safer. Easier.

She follows him back to where Raven and her had been camped when they were attacked in silence. She helps him pack up the tent and doesn’t say anything when he throws it over his shoulder. All the food and their sleeping bags are gone. Even her clothes and the empty bottle of moonshine are gone. She literally has nothing left.  

*

She’s been aimlessly following him for three days. He’s going on foot and she doesn’t have it in her to complain. At least when they walk she can focus on putting one foot in front of the other and not thinking about everything she could have done differently to save Raven. She can focus on the pain in her feet, ankles, knees and back. She can focus on the bullet wound in her shoulder. 

They’ve collected more supplies, cans of food and another jacket that is about three sizes too big for Clarke. But they’ve continued walking in almost complete silence. She misses Raven, she tries not to think about it because it hurts. _She’s lost the only person left in the world that she cares about._

After three days she’s just about ready to drop onto the side of the road and never move again. Her injured shoulder is aching from her insisting on carrying a bag and her overused muscles aren't feeling much better. This cannot be what Bellamy Blake has been doing since the world ended.

“Do you have a plan?” She asks eventually. Her voice is raspy from disuse and holding back tears over the last three days.

“Yes.” He says, without looking back at her. They’re walking down an empty street, in the first real town they’ve been in since she started following him. He’s looking for something, but has made no effort to tell her what.

“Are you going to share it?” She snaps, forcing her legs to move faster to catch up with him.

“You haven’t said a word for three days. I didn’t think you cared” He shrugs. “I’m looking for a car.”

“We’ve passed about fifty today.”

“We need keys, Clarke.” He says with exaggerated slowness. “I need to find something that’s not parked on the street.”

“I can hot-wire one.” She tells him, actually managing to enjoy the shock on his face when he glances at her. It took her a while to learn and it still takes her a while to get them started, but she’s getting better.

“Shut up. No you can’t.” He says, sounding suspiciously like the Bellamy she had been friends with in high school.

“I can, Rave – I’ve learnt a lot since the world ended.” Raven had taught her weeks ago, in case they lost Lexa’s jeep. They spent days practicing on the assorted cars Raven thought would be a challenge. Raven was quicker, but Clarke was pretty good.

“Pick one then. If you’re coming with me, we’ve got a drive ahead of us.” Bellamy tells her. He’s obviously curious, but he doesn’t ask any questions.

Clarke walks silently to an old pick up that’s parked on the side of the road. It’s obviously not been moved in months, but it has everything Raven taught her to look for. It’s sturdy, it’s not rusted and she knows how to get it started. It will do for now.

It takes her longer than she thought it would, but she eventually gets the truck going. Bellamy lets out a low whistle, he’s obviously impressed. He throws their stuff into the back.

“I’m driving.” He says. Clarke shrugs, she doesn’t have it in her to care. And if he has somewhere to go, that’s one step ahead of her.

“Where are we going?” She asks, after they’ve been driving for half an hour.

“It’s just going to get colder and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend the winter in a tent.” He tells her, with a slight smirk. “I’ve been stocking up a cabin since the beginning. It’s hidden enough that I don’t think anyone will find me – us. You can stay if you want. I have enough food.” He says it hesitantly, like he’s not sure if he should be offering. Clarke nods, she’s not sure she should be staying with him, but he’s not wrong about the winter. She’s got nothing. She’s won’t survive the winter alone.

“Well it’s up to you, princess. But I’m going there now, and it’s got to be the middle of November by now. I’m not leaving for a while.” He shrugs. He seems to be avoiding looking at her, but she might be reading into it.

An hour later, as he turns down a dirt road, it starts to rain. Bellamy curses, rolling his eyes and turns the windscreen wipers on. The cabin is far enough down the road that Clarke thinks he’s probably right. No one is going to come down here unless they’re looking for it.

She follows Bellamy out of the car, into the rain. It instantly soaks their clothes and by the time they’ve brought their bags inside they’re both shivering. They kick their shoes off and hang their coats over the back of the chairs in silence.

“I have some dry clothes upstairs for you.” Bellamy says, “If you start a fire, I’ll bring them down.”

Clarke nods, tearing up old newspaper and dropping it into the fireplace. By the time Bellamy returns, he’s in dry clothes and holding sweats and hoodie for her. He drops them beside her wordlessly.

“Thanks.” She mutters, dropping a piece of wood into the fire.

“I’ll get some food.”

They eat dinner in silence, slowly feeling the cold seep out of their skin. It’s not uncomfortable, but Clarke still feels weird. Being around Bellamy is something she hasn’t thought about for seven years. Now he’s sitting beside her, eating cold food from a can. If you’d asked a seventeen-year-old Clarke about Bellamy Blake, this is not what she would have said would be happening.

“I’ve already got all my stuff in the main room.” Bellamy says, getting off the old couch and indicating to the stairs. “I found some clothes for… well just in case. They should fit you.” He shrugs his shoulders but flushes slightly. She follows him upstairs and into the room he was indicating.

It’s bare, but the closest is filled with clothes that might fit and it’s not cold in the room. It’s also the first time she’s been alone since she found Raven. The heaviness of the silence feels suffocating and she feels the panic rising in her chest again. Her shoulders shudder with sobs as she tries to stay quiet. She doesn’t want Bellamy to hear. She doesn’t want to be alone. _She’s lost the only person left in the world she cares about._

She sits on the bed, bringing her knees to her chest. She knows she should change into something else, she should get under the covers, but she can’t bring herself to move. She doesn’t care. She focuses on her life, before the world ended. Thinking of happy memories and anything but Raven. She thinks of Bellamy, how he always felt like home. He was her best friend. She was almost certain that if she went and found him now, he’d calm her down. He always did.

 _“Clarke, hey, it’s okay. Breathe.” Bellamy whispered, wrapping his arms around her and swaying her gently. They were fifteen and sixteen and sitting in his room, she’d just run from her house._  
_“They’re going to hate me, Bell.” She sobbed, struggling to get air into her lungs. “I can’t even change it now. I wrote them a fucking letter. They'll already have read it.”_  
_“They’re not going to hate you, Clarke.” Bellamy promises. “And if they do, you can live in my room. There are so many worse things than being bi. Breathe, Clarke.”_  
_“Bellamy.” She said, tears still falling but feeling herself calm down under his soothing words. He was her best friend, he knew how to cheer her up._

It takes an hour, but sleep eventually pulls her under. She dreams of Lexa that night. She tells her love is weakness and that Bellamy Blake is love. She wakes with a start, the dream doesn’t make sense. She’d loved Bellamy when they were friends. But his last words to her had been so cruel, that they grew to hate each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was hard to write, but I think I'm mostly happy with it.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy have to live together to survive the winter.  
> (What even are good chapter summaries?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooorrrrryyyy for the thousands of years it has taken me to update this. I decided I hated it for a while. But I am back on the writing angsty Bellarke and end of the world train! 
> 
> Also, I went back and edited a couple of things because again, decided I hated this. I've changed their ages, most notably. Instead of being nineteen and twenty - they're twenty two and twenty three. I didn't changed anything else major, just some phrasing!

The weeks in the cabin pass slower than they did when Clarke was on the road with Raven. She thinks it’s probably because she’s with Bellamy and it’s not exactly awkward, but she doesn’t really know what to say to him. And it’s cold. _Really fucking cold._ As though winter had waited for them to settle down and then really set it.

Bellamy does a lot of reading, partly (she assumes) because he always has and partly because there is really nothing else to do. Clarke mostly mopes. She reads a little, but can’t really get into the historical novels Bellamy is hoarding. He huffs at this, but doesn't fight her on it. 

Clarke falls into a routine. She wakes up an hour or two after the sun fully rises and eats whatever meal they scrounge together. She finds a quiet place in the house to sit for a few hours, thinking about Lexa or Raven or Wells or her dad or her life before the world ended to torture herself. Every few days she sits with Bellamy and tries to read his books. Occasionally they’ll mention something mundane like how heavy the snow is or how gross canned tomato is or how much they miss TV. When the room gets dark, she makes her way too bed.

*

“I thought about taking a walk or something today?” Bellamy says, while they’re eating beans he’d heated up before she came downstairs. It's been over a month since they've been in the cabin. Bellamy often disappears outside on his own for a few hours. She got nervous at first, but he always comes back.

“A walk?” Clarke asks, dubious. She’s surprised he’s even invited her. They’ve barely spoken two sentences in a row to each other since they’ve been living together. They used to be friends though, they could probably be friends again. Or at least civil. Time might go faster.  

“It snowed last night and it’s kind of sunny. It’s probably the only nice day we’ll have for a while.” Bellamy shrugs, all feigned nonchalance. It’s been years, but she still knows him, knows his tells. He’s nervous asking her.

“Yeah, okay.” She agrees, looking into her plate of beans. It’s the nervousness that makes her say yes. If he’s going to make the effort, so should she.

“Wear something warm. It’s still cold.” Bellamy says gruffly and she has to hide a smile. Because of course, despite everything, Bellamy still can’t help but care.

He leads the way out of the house half an hour later and for the first time Clarke fully appreciates the beauty and tranquillity of where they are. Everything is covered in an untouched blanket of snow and there are trees that surround the entire house. It’s somewhere she can imagine having come with Bellamy before the world ended, when they had plans to travel the world together. It’s almost ironic.

“How did you even find this place?” Clarke asks, as he leads her into the trees, down a path he apparently already knows.

“I was just looking for somewhere to lay low. It’s pretty close to where home was.” Bellamy shrugs. “But we were hit pretty bad. Home got burnt down.” Clarke heard about some towns literally being burnt to the ground to try and clean out the Infected. It hadn’t worked obviously and it had killed more people than it had saved.

“Were you alone?” She can’t help asking. It’s not really what she wants to know. But it’s the only way she can ask the question without feeling like she’s imposing.

“I came here alone. Hid in the trees for a week before I even tried to get inside.” He doesn’t really answer the question, but she gets the information she wanted. His sister hasn’t been with him since the Sickness took over. Chances are she’s dead. She wants to say something about it, but she doesn’t know how. If she asks about Octavia, she's asking for his story. And she sure as hell isn't going to tell him hers. 

“I was alone too. For a while.” Clarke offers instead, picking her way through the snow.

“How’d you manage that?” Bellamy asks and then flinches. It’s the first real reference to their friendship that either of them has made and it sounds like he was trying to tease her. While they were friends, Clarke hated being alone, spent as much time with Bellamy as their parents would allow. She’d obviously had to grow out of it, since Bellamy stopped talking to her. But he had tormented her about her inability to be alone.

“Not well.” She admits, hiding her second smile for the morning.

They end up stopping in a mostly sheltered clearing. There’s less snow on the ground, so when Bellamy drops down, Clarke sits beside him. She's surprised when he pulls out a bag of dried fruit. She didn't know they had anything good left to eat. He offers her a handful and she actually moans at the soft apple. 

“It must be nearly Christmas.” Clarke says after a few minutes of silence, glancing up at the (once again) cloud filled sky. “It's got to be around December." 

“Probably coming up in the next couple of weeks.” Bellamy agrees.

“Christmas used to be my favourite time of year.” Clarke sighs, letting her thoughts drift back to the way it was before the world ended. How she used to pick a tree with her dad and spend an entire day helping him decorate the house, blasting Christmas carols and baking cookies. How they’d spend days completing their Christmas shopping, ensuring they got something special for everyone they knew. How even after Clarke stopped believing, they left cookies and milk for Santa. How they cooked enough Christmas lunch in case any number of neighbours or friends or co-workers dropped in.

“I know.” Bellamy says. “We spent most of ours with you.” He says it carefully, avoiding her eye. It’s another reference to their lives together before the end of the world. When they were friends. It’s also a mention of his sister. The Blake siblings spent every major holiday in the Griffin house. They were Clarke's closest friends. She's almost tempted to ask about Octavia again.

“I miss it.” Clarke mumbles. He probably thinks that she means Christmas with her dad. And she does a little bit. But she also misses her friendship with Bellamy. She has since the moment they’d had the big fight and said the words that would hurt each other most.

“Me too.” Bellamy sighs. And maybe he knows exactly what she’s talking about.

*

After their walk, living together becomes easier. They don’t fall back into the way they were when they were friends though. It’s as if they’ve been given a second chance. They’re relearning what it’s like to know each other. Learning each others likes and dislikes again, slotting pieces of information about themselves into conversation. They don’t talk about their pasts though. That’s too painful for Clarke and she’s convinced Bellamy feels the same.

Clarke mentions a preference of food and suddenly finds that Bellamy no longer eats that particular flavour of soup. Bellamy tells her about the books he’s reading and his frustrations with the historical inaccuracies. She finds a stash of very old board games shoved in the back corner of the wardrobe in the room neither of them are sleeping in and they find themselves playing Yahtzee until they’re straining their eyes in the firelight. It’s nice, having company again. 

It’s been just over a week since they’re walk that made them start to rebuild their relationship when Clarke wakes up to a crash downstairs and a loud curse from Bellamy. He wakes up before her just about every morning and usually spends the time waiting for her quietly reading, so the crash really sparks her curiosity. She climbs out of bed, pulling a pair of sweats on over the leggings she's been sleeping in.

“Bellamy?” She calls, stepping carefully into the lounge room. He doesn’t like being surprised these days. She’d learnt that the hard way, when she'd stumbled downstairs early one morning and he'd jumped off the armchair and lunged for the weapons they still carry around. She gasps when she sees the sight in front of her, unable to help the tears that spring to her eyes. Somehow, while she’s been sleeping, he managed to cut down one of the smaller trees outside and bring it in. He’s also brought down the box of Christmas decorations she had seen while she was exploring the attic. And he’d used them to decorate the room. With the fireplace casting a dim light over everything and the fresh snow blanketing the world outside them, it is beautiful.

“Oh my god.” She whispers, “Bellamy.” She’s lost for words, because this is something the Bellamy that was her best friend when she was a teenager would do. It’s something that reminds her of her old life, but in the best way. It’s something that’s making her cry, but not with sadness for the first time since this all started.

“Figured just because the world has ended, doesn’t mean we can’t have Christmas.” Bellamy says gruffly, shrugging his shoulders. “I think this will fit you.” He picks up a woollen sweater and tosses it at her. She lets out a noise that is somewhere between a giggle and sob, when she realises it’s a Christmas sweater that says ‘ _Fleece Navidad’_ and has a sheep with Christmas lights on it.

“This is amazing.” She says, dropping the sweater on the couch and crossing the room to wrap her arms around him before she has even thought about it. His arms close around her and because she’s already gone this far, she leans into him and buries her face in his collarbone. It feels nice to be held again, after weeks (months even) of being strong and acting like she is always okay.

When she lets go, his eyes are wet too but he ignores it, roughly scrubbing his face and offering her a smile.

“It’s Christmas Eve. I decided.” He says and then points to the Christmas tree where there is a small package sitting, wrapped in newspaper. “I got you a present, so you had better find me one. And put your fucking sweater on.”

Clarke does as she’s told and follows Bellamy into the kitchen, sitting at the table as he pulls out food for breakfast.

“Seriously, when did you find time to do this?” Clarke asks, when he’s got his back to her, heating something up on the stove.

“I saw the tree on our walk.” Bellamy shrugs. “And you still sleep as much as you did in high school, it wasn’t hard to get everything ready before you woke.”

“Thank you.” Clarke says, smiling at the back of his head and wondering if they really can be the friends they were before?

_“Clarke?” Bellamy called, knocking lightly on her bedroom window. It was past three in the morning and he hadn’t messaged her to say he was coming. Something must have happened.  
_ _“What’s wrong?” Clarke yawned, pushing her window open and letting Bellamy in. He’d climbed the tree they’d nailed planks of wood to when they were kids to get into her second storey window.  
_ _“Nothing’s wrong.” Bellamy said, as he slid off the window sill and collapsed on her bed. “Well, I broke up with Roma. But that’s not a bad thing.” Bellamy’s girlfriend and Clarke didn’t get along. Bellamy and Roma had had a fight that morning, that ended with Roma screaming that he had to choose between her or Clarke. He chose Clarke. And he’d broken up with her because of it.  
_ _“Good.” Clarke told him as she settled on the bed beside him. “She was a bitch.”  
_ _“All I need is my best friend anyway.” He tells her, nudging her shoulder and reaching for laptop._

But maybe the friendship they had as teenagers isn’t really what she wants now. They were best friends, but Clarke undeniably had feelings for him. And he loved her too. At least he did in the last three months of their friendship, before their fight. She doesn’t need any of those feelings coming back now. She just needs a friend. So she’s looking for something new. Not the friends they were before.

“For fucks sake.” She mutters under her breath, as she further digs through the contents of the attic. She doesn’t need to be thinking so hard about the friendship that might be occurring with Bellamy. She doesn’t even really want it to happen. She can’t be close to anyone again. Not after Raven. Not after Lexa. Not after losing everyone she loves. She can’t go through that again. Bellamy isn’t a permanent part of her life. He’s already proved that once.

What they’ve got now is temporary. It’s just for the winter and then they’ll find their own ways again. But he did put this together for her. So it’s only fair that she find him something that will do as a present. It would be a lot easier if she knew what he had found for her.

Eventually, hidden at the bottom of some old boxes that were shoved behind an old bookcase, she finds a couple of books that she’s sure Bellamy hasn’t read and a polaroid camera. She wraps the books in some of the newspaper she had brought upstairs with her and then brings the camera downstairs just to show Bellamy. It looks old enough that it might interest him historically.

“I found these.” Clarke says, holding up her badly wrapped present and the camera. “I figured you might be able to tell me the ancient history of the camera.”

“Clarke. That’s from like that nineties.” Bellamy says, rolling his eyes as she drops his present beside hers under the tree. “It’s probably not even older than you.”

“Oh.” She shrugs, placing it on the coffee table and picking up one of the books Bellamy had promised she would like if she ‘ _just read more than the first three sentences, Clarke. They’re good books. You need to give it a go.’_ “See if I ever find you anything interesting again.”

"Please, continue finding me interesting things." He grins, "Just make sure they're actually interesting." Clarke can't help but lean forward to kick at his ankles.

*

_“Clarke.” Lexa says, sounding far more disappointed than Clarke had ever heard her. “This is a bad idea.” She knows she’s dreaming, but honestly she had hoped for something better._

_“What is, Lex?” Clarke asks, they’re laying in the back of the jeep, Clarke on her side so she can watch her._

_“Getting close to him.”_

_“To Bellamy?” Clarke asks, confused._

_“He’s going to leave you, Clarke.” Lexa says, but she’s not Lexa anymore. It’s Raven and she’s leaning against the wall of the jeep, wearing the red jacket she had been when Clarke first met her. Except it’s stained with blood. “How can you survive someone else leaving you?”_

_“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Clarke chants, feeling the panic rise in her chest again._

Clarke wakes up in a cold sweat, her breathing uneven and feeling like the dark is closing in on her. She reaches for her bedside light before she remembers the world has ended and there is no power and Lexa and Raven are dead and she’s alone. Her chest tightens and she can’t keep in the sob that escapes her mouth.

“Clarke?” Bellamy whispers, pushing the door open and stepping into the room. “Are you okay?”

She tries to say yes and tell him to go away, but she can’t. And when she doesn’t say anything, he steps further into the room and sits on the bed beside her.

“I’m sorry.” He tells her. “I heard you before. Nightmares?”

“Yes.” She whispers, choking on a sob. She doesn’t want him to see her like this. But he’s Bellamy and he cares too much, so he wraps his arms around her and holds her to his chest, mumbling soothing words and stroking her hair like he did when they were friends. And while he holds her, she lets herself think for a moment. Maybe she isn’t alone anymore. Maybe it wouldn’t be s bad to care about someone again. Maybe it would be worth the risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are sunshine in my life. 
> 
> Sorry about the short chapter. I wanted to end it there, because it's a cute place to end it. Ogeda. 
> 
> Octavia is probably going to come back eventually. Maybe she’ll be a cannibal? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ (waiting for season five is ruining my life and my irl friends are sick of hearing about it. Someone come rant to me on tumblr [here](https://not-a-total-basket-case.tumblr.com/))

**Author's Note:**

> I really couldn’t decide if I was going to post this. I love Lexa but I wanted to make Clarke hard and against the world. She’s lost everyone she loves.  
> Also, just assume everyone who is canonically dead by the end of season 3, is dead here. I still haven’t come to terms with season 4, so they could still be alive. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Not gonna lie. Took some of my inspo from the walking dead.
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life. 
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr [Writing Is Ruining My Life](http://writing-is-ruining-my-life.tumblr.com/) or [ Not a Total Basket Case](https://not-a-total-basket-case.tumblr.com/)


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